


Holding Pattern

by Jadealiya



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Gen, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-02
Updated: 2013-07-02
Packaged: 2017-12-17 12:11:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/867398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadealiya/pseuds/Jadealiya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ME3, post destroy ending with some threads of indoctrination theory if you squint and look for it really hard - The fallout from the war's end.  Shepard, breathing but broken, runs into an unexpected source of hope.</p>
<p>Originally written for a fill on the ME kmeme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holding Pattern

The artificial morning was anything but calm, pierced by the cacophony of machinery and shouting coming from the expanse of the ward below. This area of the citadel had been one of the first marked for reconstruction. An easy decision, since it was one of the few that was still somewhat intact. Five months from the end of the war and it was up and running enough for a steady stream of people to pass through it.

Shepard leaned against the railing of the pedestrian walkway, anonymous in her civilian clothing, watching the chaos on the lower levels as a generator shorted out and stalled a crane. It would be easy, to slip over the rail. Technically, she didn't have med clearance to be up and about on her own yet. Just to hobble around with her cane and a less broken set of hands ready to help steady her. A lapse in her tenuous balance and she would be just another piece of the mess below and…

Gritting her teeth, Shepard pushed back away from the wall and the drop. So much for a change of scenery. Whatever had happened up on the citadel, whatever had gotten into her head, it was still there. Night terrors and hallucinations, pain beyond anything Miranda could find physical cause for, whispers and voices and a not too subtle prodding towards self destruction, helped along by the frustrating level of inactivity that had become her life. She had asked her keepers to lock away her weapons the second time she found herself resting the business end of her carnifex against her forehead. Powered down her amp when she considered what a warp field would do to her heart at close range. She hadn't articulated what was happening to anyone, but her friends had taken it upon themselves to set up a rotation of people to stay with her, keep her distracted. They were observant, after all. And worried. Though their constant presence just seemed to highlight those that were still missing.

The rest of her crew. Her ship.

Him.

"E…excuse me? Commander Shepard?"

Shepard turned towards the voice. Maybe she wasn't so anonymous. A little girl, a turian, stood a few feet away, eyes wide and mandibles fluttering nervously. She clutched some kind of print in her hand. A turian with a similar facial structure and red markings was hurriedly coming up behind her, reaching for the child's shoulder. "Pelas! I told you not to bother her..."

Shepard forced a smile on her face, trying to quiet the darker thoughts struggling for her attention. "It's alright. Pelas? That sounds familiar." Shepard knelt slowly, bringing her eye to eye with the girl, wincing slightly as she put more weight than she should on her bad knee. The mother shot her a concerned look, but the little girl didn't seem to notice.

The little girl grinned, mandibles flaring. "My Mommy said she sent you a message, after we saw you in the arena. You were fighting geth! It was so cool, they were, like, flying all over the place and you threw one of them over the walls and he got stuck in the lights and it was really funny."

Shepard nodded slowly, hearing accusatory whispers in Legion's voice. Trying to ignore them, she forced herself to focus on the girl's words. "I think I remember that one. It was one of the first matches I did. Actually, the message from you and your mom was one of the first ones I got."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It was nice, knowing people were enjoying the show. I think some of my crew thought I was crazy, fighting things for pretend on my downtime when I did so much fighting for real on duty."

Pelas giggled, holding out the booklet she was carrying for Shepard to see. It was a novelty printing from the arena, with a picture of her and Garrus standing back to back, flanked by cannibals. "Maybe a little bit, but we don't usually get to see you fighting for real. It was awesome. Can you sign this for me?"

Shepard froze, looking at the image. "That's...quite a picture." She hoped her voice sounded steady, seeing only the exploding mako. Garrus covered in blood. The look on his face as she turned and ran for the beam.

"I know! I remember this fight too!" Pelas handed the image and a pen to Shepard, not noticing her distress. "There was one part, at the end, you were facing down a brute and you kept drawing him back and blowing him up and stuff and then just as he fell there were three husks right behind you and I didn't think you saw them but Garrus shot them in the head and you looked back at the husks and then up at Garrus and you went like this" Pelas paused for breath, bringing her hand to her mouth and mimicking blowing someone a kiss. "And it was really funny. My cousin said that's a human thing that you do when you like someone. Like, you know, _like_ someone."

Pelas' mother looked mortified. "Pelas!"

"But Mom, that Asari lady on the talk show said he was her boyfriend.” The little girl looked back at Shepard, lowering her voice to a conspiracy level. “He’s really cute. Is he here too?"

Shepard wasn't sure what look was on her face. She knew her hands shaking and everything around her suddenly seemed very dark. She vaguely heard Pelas' mother telling her daughter they had to go. Pelas' very vocal objections slowly trailing off.

Digging her fingers into her knee, Shepard tried to focus on the physical pain, to bring herself back to reality. Pelas was looking at her, childish exuberance replaced by something more knowing, more sorrowful. Something far, far too grown up for a child her age to be acquainted with. Something everyone who had lived through the war had learned.

Hands still shaking, Shepard activated the pen, looking back at the picture. "He...Garrus would have liked to meet you. He isn't here, though. He was on my ship.”

Pelas’ eyes widened slightly. "Oh. I'm sorry. Did it crash?"

"We don't know."

"I bet they’re ok. I bet you'll find them."

Shepard paused, half way through signing the picture. "You sound very confident."

Pelas nodded. "You’re Commander Shepard. You can do anything. You broke the high score in the arena and threw husks around and ended the war and saved everyone. When I grow up I want to be as strong as you and be able to help people too.”

This time, Shepard’s smile didn’t feel quite so forced. "I think you're already pretty strong, Pelas. It was very brave for you to come up and say hello to me. And I bet you're a big help to your mom."

Pelas smiled. "I try to be.” The girl glanced back at her mother. “And I'm sorry if I'm bothering you, Commander."

Shepard handed the autographed picture back to the child. “Not at all. I’m glad I got to meet you.”

“Me too! Thank you for the autograph!” Impulsively, the turian hugged Shepard, carefully keeping her newly signed print to the side. “And I hope you feel better and that you find your ship and your boyfriend soon!”

Shepard chuckled slightly, returning the hug. “Thank you. Stay out of trouble, ok?”

“I will!” Pelas stepped back and smiled at her mother.

The turian woman inclined her head to Shepard. “Thank you, Commander.”

The pair turned to leave, the little girl launching into an excited summery of what had just happened, holding her new treasure in front of her.

“That was goddamn beautiful, Shepard.”

Shepard looked up over her shoulder as a familiar figure came to stand beside her. “Zaeed. What are you doing here?”

“When your keepers realized you’d slipped out, they called in the cavalry.” Zaeed held out a hand.

Shepard took it, letting him help pull her to her feet. They were getting a few looks from passerby. Not a surprise since the mercenary was armed to the teeth and in full armor. “Of course they did. You’d better let them know you found me in one piece.”

“Already did. Told em you had to go greet your adoring public. Cute kid. Seems to look up to you.”

“Yeah.” Shepard started slowly making her way down the walkway.

Zaeed shadowed her in silence for a few steps before speaking up. “You know what that kid doesn’t need, Shepard? She doesn’t need to hear about her hero doing anything stupid.”

Shepard paused, looking back at Zaeed. His face was neutral, but the fact that he had bothered to say anything spoke volumes. Opting not to engage in that particular conversation, Shepard changed the subject. “How many of the missing ships have found their way back here?”

“The ones thrown around by the crucible? Seven, maybe eight. Why?”

“I wonder if anyone has pulled their nav data yet. Checked where they were with where they ended up.”

“Doubt it. People smart enough for meaningless number crunching are being kept busy with rebuilding.”

Shepard started walking again. “Meaningless unless we can find a trend. Apply it to the last known locations of the other missing ships. And there are plenty of smart people who owe me favors.”

“You getting ideas, Shepard?”

Shepard smiled tightly. It was better than frustrating inactivity, waiting for the voices in her head to get the better of her.

_You’re Commander Shepard. You can do anything._

“I’m thinking its time to go find my ship.”

**Author's Note:**

> The original prompt for this fill wanted Shepard crossing paths with one of the fans from the arena in the citadel DLC. I hope to spin this off to a longer piece eventually.


End file.
